Back at the Wattle Hut

Name    : 
E-Mail  : 
Subject : 

Comments:
: 
: *mutter mutter mutter*  There, got the durned bucket o' water hauled back from the river - make me some nice soup fer supper outta them dandelion greens by the hut.  'Spose I gotta git that pig outta the hut afore I can start.  I see most o' the wattles is stuck back on the hut - leastways, won't have to worry about rain makin' a muddy mess o' the floor, not that the pig ain't already.  *grumble grumble*  

: But then I jist keep thinkin' about all the bacon an' lard an' po'k chops comin' from that critter fer the winter.  Come pig-stickin' time in the Fall, she'll be good an' fat.  Here, pig! Here, pig!  - - - What?  Where is she?  I tol' Grapeshot ta keep an eye on her 'til I got back.  An' come to think of it, where's Grapeshot?  Don't see him nowheres! Now durn that boy, he's gone skinnin' off with that no-good cousin o' his, and somebody come in an' stole the pig!  Gonna have ta go down to Sheriff Twigg's an' tell him somebody's stole my pig!  Well, here I go.  Not like to git me any supper 'til breakfast time, way things're goin'.  Jist wait'll I git my old withered claws on that grandson o' mine.  He'll wish he never saw the light o' day.  *grumble mutter * (stomps on down the hill)

: The Old Crone


Optional Link URL:  
Link Title:         
Optional Image URL: